


Trussed Leopard

by Lewdsmokesoldier



Series: Poll Stories [10]
Category: Spider-Man (Comicverse)
Genre: Anal Sex, Breast Focus, F/M, Fluff and Smut, impregnation risk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:40:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25140265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lewdsmokesoldier/pseuds/Lewdsmokesoldier
Summary: Peter Parker, everyone’s Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man, is usually happier dealing with small-scale villains. Among them is one Black Cat, a certain Felicia Hardy, whose appetite for stealing is matched only by her desire to play with her favorite Spider. Perhaps it’s for the best that he enjoys it, too.
Relationships: Felicia Hardy/Peter Parker
Series: Poll Stories [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1820980
Comments: 7
Kudos: 42





	Trussed Leopard

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of my [Poll One-Shot Stories work](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18747037?view_full_work=true), and has been posted separately for ease of navigation and tagging.

Rhino robbing a bank normally wouldn’t be all that unusual. Aleksei wasn’t the brightest bulb in the chandelier, to put it mildly, and even though he was strong, without his suit he wasn’t the worst thing Spider-Man had faced.

Trussing Rhino up in webbing didn’t take a lot of effort, either. The man was all bluster, no brains, and couldn’t stand up to the likes of Spider-Man on a good day, when the web-slinger had his wits about him.

What _was_ unique was having to break off the capture to chase after someone who’d decided to take advantage of the chaos. A black-and-white blur, streaking across the ceiling of the bank, twirling and spinning from a long black line secured to the upper balconies. He’d recognize that combination of colors and finesse anywhere.

“Sorry, big guy,” Spider-Man tapped Rhino on the head, confirming that the fella was tightened to the wall-crawler’s satisfaction. Not as strongly as he’d have liked, but hopefully the NYPD would avoid dawdling as it trawled for trouble elsewhere: those class-action lawsuits had hopefully taught the city government its lesson. “Looks like you’re not the only one who’s got an eye on this place. Have fun!”

He leaped off of the bound man, rocketing towards the doorway to the roof exit that he’d seen the object of his interest dash through, while the burly would-be-pilferer struggled and swore.

Sure enough, she was there, back to the edge of the roof, drumming her fingers on the brickwork. Long, platinum-white hair that went down past her shoulders; faux-fur preening her shoulders, forearms, and calves; an onyx-colored figure-eight for a mask; silver boots and clawed, dark, elbow-length gloves; and, of course, that skin-tight black leather suit, clinging to her outline so snugly that he wasn’t sure how her skin could breath. Sure, there was an opening at the top for a deep dip of cleavage, so wide and low that it exposed the sides of her shoulders, but that seemed more just an opportunity for her to display her chest than something that would give her any relief from the suit’s grip. 

“Hello, Felicia.” He stepped towards her, trying his best to appear relaxed, though every nerve was fired to jump, duck, dodge or strike. Whatever was needed, based on her response.

“Heya, Spider-Man.” Her emerald eyes flashing with mirth as her black-painted lips widened in a grin. “How’s it hanging?” 

“Very funny, Felicia. I’m going to assume that you’ve got something nice stashed away behind your back, given where you’ve just been. Would I be right?” Peter Parker tried not to sound _too_ snarky. If he pissed her off, then she’d be gone before he could stop her. Better to try to get her to pass of what she’d snatched quietly.

“What, me? Why, I never! Unless, of course, you’re talking about...well, I’m sure you didn’t intend anything unseemly!” Felicia Hardy held a gloved hand to her face to cover her as she giggled, but Peter knew better than to be off-guard. She was just as poised to spring and flee, or to dash past him, as he was to jump her. 

“I don’t know what you mean, Felicia, but you and I both know that it’d be for the best if you just hand over what you took.” Peter took another step closer to her, near enough that he could reach out and touch her forearm. But he stayed still.

“The nerve! To accuse me of something as banal as _bank robbing_?” Felicia sniffed and turned, tossing her hair in exaggerated offense, chin tilted so high and proud that Peter knew there was no way she could be serious. “I’ve half a mind to claw your pretty suit to ribbons, if I didn’t hate the thought of ruining such pretty tailoring.”

“Gee, thanks, Felicia. I’m sure my suit appreciates it.” Peter was even nearer now. Just a little bit more, and he could reach behind her, where she’d surely stashed the bills she’d stolen…

Something must have thrown off his spider-sense. Maybe it was his focus on snatching the wealth he was sure she’d stolen, or his attempt to maintain a veneer of calm. Or maybe it was her delightful peach-scented perfume that drifted in his direction with the rooftop wind, or the way that standing in front of her gave him a better appreciation of just how mightily her breasts were struggling to escape the confines of her cleavage.

Whatever it was, when Felicia lunged, Peter was a half-second too slow. She did not lash out, and did not scratch or snarl in a bid to confuse him for her escape. Instead, she pursed her lips into a kiss, pressed them to her gloved index finger, and nudged it against his face, drawing the outline of his lips through his mask.

“Oh, my sweet Spider,” She murmured, her other hand trailing up his bicep, “A word of advice? I _never_ steal from bank vaults. They just have currency notes, boring paper. I only take rare things. _Beautiful_ things.”

Before he could respond she turned on her heel and stepped towards the edge of the building, hips sashaying far more to either side than was necessary. Resting her hand on her hip, she half-shifted so the right side of her face was looking at him. Her eyelid twitched in a wink, and then she was gone over the side. When he ran to the edge, he thought he could see a shadow slipping into the darkness across the street...but surely she couldn’t have gotten that far that fast. 

He sighed and let his mask slip off, wiping the mop of brown hair that had flattened beneath the fabric. Normally, that kind of exchange would be counted as a loss in his books, but Peter had the feeling that this might have turned out for the better. Black Cat had always flirted with him, especially once they’d revealed their identities to each other—mutual insurance, and as a sign of trust—but she’d never been so forward. Hopefully, that was a good thing.

“I owe you an apology, Felicia.”

The woman in question quirked an eyebrow, distending her mask with the shift in her brow. She was perched on all fours near the corner of Brooklyn Bridge’s northwestern tower, watching as Electro struggled with the federal authorities, bound in frozen manganese cuffs, his captors coated in rubber clothing. She hadn’t gotten in Spider-Man’s way, simply observing as he apprehended Maxwell and short-circuited the charged convict’s plans to hold the bridge for ransom. But he’d still noticed her, as was her design, and had swooped up to chat with her while the problem was dealt with.

“Oh? Whatever for?” She twirled her hair in her index finger. She had a few ideas, but enjoyed making him figure it out for himself. 

“The other day, at the bank. I shouldn’t have doubted you. And you made a good point.” 

“I suppose I did, yes. Thank you for being honest.” She turned to face him, her satisfaction clearly stamped on her face as she smiled.

“...Of course, even if you’re not stealing raw cash, it’s still illegal.” Spider-Man shrugged, holding his hands out in a “what can you do?” gesture. Black Cat’s cheeky grin faded, and she crossed her arms beneath her chest and pouted.

“So, there’s still things you have to make up for, then. Such as your lack of tact, dear Spider.” She shook her head, watching his body language shift from “reluctant bearer of unfortunate truths” to “whoops, I messed up” as his shoulders shrunk and his hands swiveled upwards, wide and placating. 

“Whoa, whoa, Felicia, I didn’t…I wasn’t…”

She let out a laugh, then, loud and clear in the night sky. Even when he was telling her the truth, he still couldn’t help but feel awkward about upsetting her. Especially when she was so blatantly overplaying her hand. It was cute, and he was fun, but she knew quite well that she wouldn’t be wrapping him around her finger anytime soon. That didn’t mean she couldn’t let Spidey know that things were going _just_ right for her.

“I know you weren’t. But there’s no better time to start working off your debt than right now, wouldn’t you say?” She whispered, leaning towards him. He met her motions, and as she slid one finger beneath his mask, caressing his neck with her claws, she felt his pulse race against her glove. But he didn’t move to make her stop, and when she pulled up the bottom half of his covering to expose his jaw and mouth, he pressed forward to kiss her.

Her black-painted lips met his, pressing against him while her arms encircled his shoulders and waist to pull him close, feeling the heat of his body against her through her suit. His own hands lingered in her hair and the back of her head, keeping her on him while she hummed and he gasped into each other’s mouths. It wasn’t a perfect kiss, but it was warm and inviting and wonderfully comforting, and she found the freedom to roam the muscles of his back with her hands as he pulled her into him.

When they broke away, panting, Spider-Man’s mouth was ringed with the dark markings of her lip coloring, shimmering in the lights from the bridge. She couldn’t see the upper half of his face, but Black Cat had no doubt that he was wide-eyed with wonder. 

“Felicia…” He started, and she shook her head and lifted her hands to nudge his away from her head, slipping back away from him.

“Later, Spidey. I promise. Just let me have this, here. Okay?”

He nodded, pulling down his mask. He hesitated—perhaps hoping to hug her, or to see if she’d say something else—but when she stood there silently, he tilted his head in acknowledgement and zipped away, leaving Felicia alone on the bridge tower. She wasn’t ready for the complications yet. The discussions about what this might mean for what happened next.

It only occurred to her afterwards that his hands had stayed above her shoulders the whole time. He’d never reached elsewhere, and she’d never invited him. Good: he respected her boundaries. Now, maybe next time, there’d be space to adjust them.

“Hey, uh, Felicia. It’s been a while.”

She rolled her eyes and turned to face him, tapping her foot. This time, she hadn’t been able to stay idle. When Scorpion and Vulture had attempted to hold an high entire school hostage to secure the release of Rhino and Electro, well...Black Cat would steal many things, but she would not steal lives, or watch them be taken away. 

At least, that was what she had told Peter. And despite her signs of frustration, she stayed put. Perhaps she’d been expecting this conversation too, and just didn’t want to recognize it.

“Not really, Spider-Man.”

“I mean, it’s been a bit since we talked about. You know. It.”

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to spell it out, dear. There’s a fair bit that falls under ‘it’ between me and you.”

“I mean the...you know. The kiss. You _kissed_ me, Felicia.” He sighed, resting his forehead on the access door of the hotel down the street whose roof they were currently standing on. She’d zipped away from the scene once it became clear that Scorpion would not succeed, but hadn’t been able to make herself leave. And Peter had caught up.

“Scared ya, huh? _Mrow_ ~.”

His face reddened, and he stammered and gulped before he got the focus to step towards her, pulling his mask off and bunching the material in his hand. “I...it was fun, Felicia. I liked it.”

“Glad to hear it, Spidey.~” Okay, maybe she had been a _little_ worried that she’d come off too strong. He’d run into her a few times since then, but had made no mention of the moment their lips had touched. He’d been too busy chasing her from a heist, breezing past her on the way to a greater threat, or just lounging about on a tower close enough that they both knew the other was there. He hadn’t tried to talk to her, and she hadn’t moved back towards him. They were stuck in an uncomfortable limbo. And she still wasn’t sure _why_ she’d kissed him.

“...Maybe ‘fun’ is the wrong word. But I liked it a _lot_ , Felicia. And I’m sorry if I wasn’t clearer about that. About any of this. Oops?” Peter said sheepishly, fiddling with the mask in his hands. 

“Oh, don’t worry about it.” Black Cat’s teasing masked the frustration that kept boiling up within her, a dangerous cocktail of enervation and a seething refusal to admit that maybe she'd been playing _too_ hard to get. Of course. Sweet, lovable Spider-Man would have expected _her_ to take the next step, being the good Boy Scout that he was. And perhaps it wasn’t an unreasonable expectation, given that she’d been the one to start the kiss, and had cut it off so suddenly, to tease him and sort out her own feelings. He was brave, kind, and intelligent, and a bit of a dope. Or at least unsure how to approach something as complicated as a relationship with a purported rival and definite criminal. 

She wasn’t sure she was in a better position at all. She still couldn’t tell herself _why_ she’d kissed him, _why_ she’d taken that step that would color their interactions forever after. Maybe it was a moment of weakness, revealing what she wanted beneath all her flirting, or the natural culmination of her cajoling. Maybe she’d been unfair, to try to push this on him. She’d teased him for so long...she’d just wanted to see if something bigger could come of it, after all this time. But even as she weighed her position, she couldn't stop herself from needling him further. This Cat liked playing with her food a little _too_ much.

“Then again, you never said that I _didn’t_ scare ya. Is this the same fearless wall-crawler that's faced down the likes of Hobgoblin, Doctor Octopus, and Mysterio? For shame.” She teased, watching him closer, trying to see how close to the fire she could dance.

Peter blinked, blind to the truth right in front of his face. He could be tunnel-visioned like that. “Felicia, I...what are you talking about?” 

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were frightened of me..." Black Cat crooned, dancing her fingers across his chest. 

Any further taunts she had were cut off when she leaned to close the last gap between them that remained, grabbed his face in her hands, and pulled him into a kiss.

She was a good kisser, and now that she was taking the lead, she was able to show him just how possessive she could be. She aggressively pressed herself to him, dragging his lips against hers to leave a thin smear of her lipstick on his skin, squeezing his cheeks every time he moaned into her mouth. When their eyes closed it was just the two of them alongside each other, partaking of their taste, warmth, and touch.

Okay, maybe Peter was a bit of a dork, but he was adorable, and knew more about kissing than his sensitivity let on. And he couldn’t have given a better indication of his eagerness for her than the way he was moving into their embrace.

They separated, and he opened his mouth, maybe to apologize, maybe to negotiate a way out of this, but she cut him off with a finger on his lips and a sultry, satisfied smile.

" _That_ clear enough, Spider-Man? Or am I so terrifying that I need to repeat myself?"

His protests died in his throat, and he chuckled along with her while she moved to nuzzle into his shoulder. 

"Yeah. Yeah. Okay, Felicia. I think I get it."

"Good." She purred. They still had a lot to figure out, but maybe he now knew what to do, and perhaps Felicia didn’t need to keep running.

Black Cat had been considering how to inch him to go further. To grab her butt, or squeeze her tit, or brush his hand between her clothed legs. Spider-Man never took any of her hints. Maybe he was scared, or unsure, or too on alert to go further. She'd have to find out what made him tick, and egg that on.

The next time they met and fell into each other's arms, Peter’s hand, clinging to the back of her shoulder, slipped in the ruckus while they kissed, and brushed her covered backside. Just for a split-second, but it was enough, and he withdrew it with a start.

“Sorry, Felicia, I…”

She held her finger to his mouth and cocked her hip so that her rear slid into his grip, dragging his other hand down to the suit covering her cleavage. His fingers danced along the outline of her breasts, hovering above the curve of her exposed skin, and she took no small pleasure in the way his breath caught in his throat.

“No, keep going. I like it.” Black Cat purred, slipping her mouth forward to kiss the top of his neck, sucking and nibbling on the exposed skin. Her fingers quested lower, tickling the bulge that was starting to distend the crotch of his outerwear. Peter hissed at the sensation, his fingers tightening their grip on her leather-clad chest and butt, digging into both the material and the soft skin beneath, and when he rubbed her nipples through her suit, gave her the lightest of smacks on her rear, and then slipped his fingers forward to rub between her legs, she gasped and broke off of his neck.

Felicia knew what she wanted, and she had a feeling that, with a little push, Peter would too.

"Maybe we should continue this somewhere more comfortable."

Peter responded with a tighter squeeze of her ass, a harder grope of her tit, and a thrust with the pleasant bulge in his crotch against her covered slit, earning a happy whine from Felicia while she grabbed at his groin and her hands reached back to stroke the muscles of his back.

Darling, sweet Spider-Man promised to be something special indeed.

He’d never been to her apartment, but perhaps had had some idea of what she wanted, given that she specified that they enter through the window.

Peter had scarcely come through before Felicia was upon him, dragging him atop her onto the couch and grabbing at his arms and crotch, pulling his mask up just enough for her to kiss him. She was still suited, still clad in the persona of Black Cat, and when he reached up to remove her mask she shook her head and leaned away from the kiss.

“Keep the costumes on,” she said, “It makes it better, don’t you think?”

If Peter wanted to argue—and he wasn’t sure he disagreed with her—he wouldn’t have been able to when she moved back forward to smooch him, her hands squeezing his dick, rubbing and dragging all around it without disrobing him. She whined and nudged him, pushing her breasts up against his chest, pulling his hands towards the zipper of her suit to ease him into what would come next.

He hesitated, just for a moment. Once he unzipped and exposed her, there wouldn’t be any going back. Was he ready to take this plunge? Was Felicia?

“Spidey...” She moaned, tilting her head to the side to suck at his neck, leaving a trail of black kiss marks along the skin, “I want you.”

Peter couldn’t help but smile warmly as he planted kisses along her cheek and forehead, sliding his fingers to grab her zipper and begin to pull. If she was prepared, then so was he.

WIth agonizing slowness, the metal moved down, dragging along her stomach with a small clicking sound. The more he pulled, the more Black Cat’s breasts strained to escape their leather, fur-trimmed confines, and the more Peter found himself growing hard beneath her ministrations and his anticipation. 

He’d always been...fascinated by her chest, by the deep well of her cleavage and the way they strained against her tight-strapped outfit, but he’d never found the opportunity to get a good look. And besides, doing so when he was fighting or talking with her seemed uncalled for. Even when they’d gotten to the “grope-and-grind” stage of their relationship, he hadn’t had the chance to see Black Cat’s naked glory. 

When the zipper passed her bellybutton, her breasts spilled out into the open, wobbling and shuddering from the force of being freed at last. They were every bit as perfect as he’d pictured: soft, supple, and sensuously sized, capped with perky nipples and pink areolas, and it took all his self-control to not dive down to smother his face between them, nibbling and sucking on her tits. Instead, he contented himself with a lingering brush of the fingers of his right hand against her left breast and, when she mewled and squirmed affirmatively, sunk his digits in to squeeze and grope that milky whiteness that enthralled him.

“Spider-Man…” She moaned. Black Cat was remarkably sensitive, purring and cooing at the slightest touch while she kept working at his dick through his suit. He captured her left nipple between his thumb and index finger and squeezed, bringing a fresh redness to her cheeks and a wobble to her breasts as she shuddered beneath his reach. The hand she wasn’t using to rub his cock through his clothing reached down to slip between the division of the upper and lower halves of his suit, rubbing her gloves against his bare skin before grasping his ass carefully, her claws tickling at the firm flesh of his butt. 

Spider-Man’s other hand, the one not exploring Black Cat’s chest, stayed on her zipper, putting pressure on it from beneath as he started to pull again. He wasn’t sure how far it went, but Felicia was squirming enough that he took it as a go-ahead to keep undressing her. The gliding motions of her hand were nudging the half-hard head of his dick, his body maneuvered into her stroking as she pulled him closer to her with the grip she had on his backside. He wasn’t going to blow, but the way she was skillfully maneuvering those soft, precise hands on his shaft and outlining the bulge of his crotch and the silhouette of his balls and applying delicate prods on _just_ the right spots. She knew what she was doing.

So he pulled further down, and felt his pulse quiver when his fingers brushed against something other than her skin. Peter kept going, and as the suit slipped down between her legs, split in two from between her buttcheeks all the way up to her shoulders, he saw her. _All_ of her, crowned with white hair the same color as that which shone on her head, shimmering and swollen with arousal, and she hissed when his thumb nudged the entrance, her thighs tensing against him.

“ _Please_ ,” Felicia pleaded, eyes half-lidded and begging, and Peter was hopeless to resist her. The fingers she had on his crotch dove upward, hooked into his waistband, and tugged faster than he could stop her even if he’d wanted to. His cock jutted outward, balls swaying from the force of her motion, the head hovering just above her entrance. 

His breath caught in his throat, but Felicia was fearless. She reached back down, releasing his rear and tugging on the tip to urge him forward, and when he prodded her slit she let loose a rattling, hoarse moan of delight. Her legs swiveled up, thighs grasping his sides while she locked her calves around his back to pull him in while the hand she’d been using to hold his ass grabbed his chin and tilted his head towards her while he slid forward to penetrate her.

Peter Parker’s whole body rumbled in a full-throated groan while Felicia slipped her free hand between the top half of his suit and his skin, rubbing his chest and stomach to entice him forward. Felicia was...hot, and wet, and achingly tight around him, squeezing and clutching at his cock just hard enough to give him pause, but not so forbidding that he couldn’t keep slipping more of his dick into her. The fingers he’d been using to unzip and tease her scooped up from beneath to support her arched back as he kept pushing himself further into her. With every sweet, tight, tense inch, the pressure got stronger and more intrusive, but he didn’t stop. 

He didn’t look away, and he didn’t falter, either. His eyes stayed locked on Felicia’s, heedless even of the tits that he was groping and squishing, her visage encompassing his vision. Felicia had shown him a lot of expressions: taunting, sultry, mirthful, and bitter, to name but a few. But the softness in her gaze, the raising of her eyebrows, the smile gracing her lips...there was no mistaking it. This was the closest to adoration and loving that Black Cat had ever looked, and Peter couldn’t get enough of it. 

So much, in fact, that when he found his progress halted, he tried nudging forward a few more times in confusion before realizing that the soft pressure against his balls was Felicia’s rear. That he’d bottomed out in her, balls-deep and brimming with eagerness, and was far from done.

“Felicia…” He started, leaning forward to kiss her, but she shifted the hand on his chin to shush him.

“No. Right now, we’re Spider-Man and Black Cat. That other stuff...it’ll come later.” But she moved her hand to allow him to kiss her, and on that promise, he locked his lips on hers, shifted his hips back, and shoved back forwards, mouth sliding against hers as he began pumping in and out.

She held him there, legs locked to keep him from pulling out too far, his thick dick plugging her and leaving her hollow over and over again. His nutsack, heavy with his anticipation, smacked against her repeatedly on the inward push and dragged away when he retreated for another shove. Her tits heaved with the force of his movements, and in spite of the struggle to keep kissing they made a valiant effort. Kiss marks dotted his cheeks, chin, and upper lip, but they didn’t stop.

The couch squeaked in protest of the effort of their exertions, but Spider-Man kept going at her. Kept pounding his Black Cat, picking up the pace to slam into her harder and faster, fucking her into the cushions while she alternated between submissive mewling, delighted moans, and hungrily biting her lip. Releasing his chest, she swiveled her index finger around the sensitive button buried in her patch of snow-white hair, slit tensing and tightening in time with the rhythm of her rubbing. 

Peter couldn’t hold out much longer. Part of him wanted to bury himself as deep as he could go and let loose, emptying his balls into Felicia with a mind-numbing blast of his load. He had no doubt that she’d help him, carried away as she was by the furious back-and-forth of his fucking, but he was smarter than that. He had to be, to be Spider-Man.

“Cat…” He stammered hoarsely, neck taut as he slammed into her over and over, balls striking his upturned ass with an audible _smack_ every time. “I’m gonna…”

“I’m... _fuck_ , Spidey, I’m... _oooooh~!”_ Felicia squealed and writhed and gushed, clutching onto his cock so hard that he feared he’d be unable to keep moving while she rolled in her climax. Her undulations were so fast and so urgent that he didn’t find any time to pull out, and Peter had little hope that he could avoid giving this Cat the biggest helping of cream that she’d ever enjoyed, right where it would give her kittens.

And then, there was an opening—a lull in the crescendo of her throbbing orgasm, in the pattern of gripping of her cunt on his cock. As quickly as he could, Peter Parker slid his dick out with a _pop_ , strands of her fluids still connected to his shaft, and aimed the head of his cock for her chest. 

Releasing her breast to stroke himself, his gloved hand _shlicking_ along his length, Spider-Man came, spewing his spunk all over Black Cat’s naked breasts. She moaned and licked her lips, grabbing her tits and squeezing them, pressing them together, tweaking her nipples and cooing as he sprayed his considerable cumshot all over her chest, splashing further up onto her neck and chin and further down to her bellybutton and just above her pubic hair. 

“All for me? Mmm, _delicious_ , Spider-Man. That’s it, cum all over Black Cat’s soft tits…” She trembled, and he let another splatter land right between her breasts. When he was finally done, oozing cock in hand, he leaned back, releasing Felicia to let her sink to the cushions, to admire his work.

Felicia’s front was absolutely _plastered_ in his load. There wasn’t a spot he’d left untouched, save for her face. And even that had been grazed, with some seed dribbling down onto her neck from her chin and pooling between her breasts. A puddle of spunk had gathered in her bellybutton, but by far the biggest target had been her soft, gorgeously round tits. They were soaked in his load, cum dripping between her cleavage and coating her nipples in a shimmering, thick fluid.

Black Cat dipped a finger in the layer, scooped it up, and licked her finger clean. She didn’t need to speak, but her eyes told him everything.

She was satisfied...for now. But she’d been hoping for a lot more of this sort of thing.

From that point on, they were almost inseparable. Literally, in fact. Whether they were fighting each other, joining forces against someone else, or just enjoying each other, they found more and more time to be near, next to, atop and in each other. Whenever they fucked, Spider-Man and Black Cat spent as much time as possible trying out new things, from the mundane to the sort of stuff that was only possible thanks to their abilities and agility.

Sure, eating Felicia out was a wonderful joy to Peter, who relished the chance to dig his nose into her bush, swirl his tongue inside her slit while she clutched his head in her thighs. Or he’d bend her over and work at her from behind, sucking and nudging her clit while one finger, then two, and then three pumped in and out of her cunt. Or he’d hold her vertically by her hips, her shoulders on the ground while she looked upwards and watched her legs dangle towards the ceiling, and approach her from a new angle, tickling the underside of her hood with his chin and tongue to stimulate recesses he normally couldn’t reach. Regardless, he’d always smile as the Cat’s pussy yielded to his affections and his lips were soaked in her climax.

Certainly, having her swallow his dick was wonderful. Sometimes, he grabbed her hair and slammed into her face, balls smacking her chin while her makeup ran and she smiled, sputtered, and drooled happily around his thrusting dick. Sometimes, he was letting her gently minister to him, revering his dick like it was the most precious gem she could possess. And sometimes, Felicia focused entirely on his fat, hefty balls, nuzzling her nose into them to drink deep of his scent and suckle on them like they were the source of some wondrous elixir. Which they were, of course. No matter what, though, Peter would always end up flooding her mouth, nostrils, and stomach with his load, or spraying it all over her face or tits. And Felicia _always_ left a track of lipstick along his dick, crotch, and ballsack. Usually a shining onyx color, but sometimes she spiced it up with pink or ruby-red. She was a fan of marking her progress when sucking with rings of whatever lipstick she was wearing to indicate the depths she’d swallowed. Of course, the furthest was always right at the base, the showoff.

But what about both of them doing it to each other? Not just at the same time...but vertically? With his webs, and her ropes, it wasn’t that difficult at all, though they tried to limit themselves to doing it indoors to reduce the risk of a climax-induced plummet to the street. Still, the safety measures didn’t make it any less exciting, and when they graduated to doing it out-of-doors, the vulnerabilities of doing it alongside the upper stories of a skyscraper heightened the thrill.

Usually, Peter’s head would be at the top, and Felicia would be the one upside-down, the two of them licking, sucking, stroking and fingering in time with their partner. Whenever Black Cat swirled her tongue around his cock, Spider-Man would give her a long, heavy, powerful lick that sent shudders down her spine, towards the head that was already becoming dizzy. Or maybe he’d be the one reversed, his breathing obstructed by her dripping wet snatch, urging him to lap and finger her that much faster to give himself the room to breathe while she buried her face into his nutsack to work his balls with her tongue. If Peter was on the bottom, his load usually dripped back down onto his face between her tits when he came...but if he was on top, then Felicia would find her climax splashing down onto her own features as it dropped from his chin. No matter what, it was always intense, and always excellent.

Spider-Man’s fascination with Black Cat’s tits continued, and she was generous enough to indulge his obsession. Whether he was straddling her stomach to thrust between her breasts; standing while she knelt and pressed her chest around his cock; or letting her bend until her face was against his belly to thrust downward into the valley of her cleavage, to name but a few, Peter never stopped looking for ways to employ Black Cat’s chest to get himself off, combining the space between her boobs into a tight hole to fuck, surrounded by softness. 

On one of his more inventive days, they elected to go for their usual titfucking routine with a hammock of his spiderweb as bedding, suspended beneath the Brooklyn Bridge. Cars raced overhead and boats zipped along beneath...all heedless of the fact that, directly above and below them, Spider-Man was currently getting his dick and balls worked over by Black Cat’s breasts.

Of course, even when they weren’t going wild by joining the closest equivalent of the mile-high club that they would risk, they still had plenty of fun. He could pound her from behind, bending her over and covering her back to work her from the back. Her suit stayed in one piece, but split far enough down from the front for her to step into that he could expose all the parts he needed and still let her stay the Black Cat, and keep himself as Spider-Man. Watching her squirm and writhe from behind was a unique thrill, especially if he reached forward to hold her hanging tits as she thrust back into him until she came and he found the freedom to slip his dick free and shower her butt and the back of her suit with his load.

Or he could lay into Felicia face-to-face, pressing her to the mattress aggressively, slipping into her softly, or something in between while her legs and thighs dictated their pace. Or maybe even hold her vertically against the wall as he pounded her. Peter would still find himself distracted by her breasts...but he could manage if her pussy gripped him as hot and tight as she always managed to make it. He still wasn’t cumming in her anytime soon, but the opportunity to vacate his load onto her belly, butt, back and breasts, or her face, more than made up for it. Or, if he was properly protected, filling the sleeve that separated them, in imitation of the risky, consequence-inducing act of consummation...and impregnation.

It was after one such occasion, when Spider-Man was reaching his peak as he softly sawed his dick in and out of Black Cat and she was chasing her third orgasm of the day around his cock, that Felicia felt a curious sensation settle over her. 

Not just the fullness that thrust in and out, or the feeling of his hands on her breasts while he necked her. But something deeper, something _wilder_ , and something yearning.

She wanted more. Not just more of him, more of Peter, but something greater than this. The sex was wildly invigorating and the best she’d ever had, and it was far from empty, but something felt...lacking. It wasn’t Peter—he was a sweet man, gentle and affectionate even when they got rough on her request. But every time he made a move to go further, she found a way to avoid it. If he started to say that he loved her, she’d silence him with a kiss if her mouth was free, a particularly tight tensing of her cunt if she was facing away, a shove onto her slit if he was eating her out, or a swift suck on the root of his dick if she was being attended to there. 

But every time she said no, she felt the call opposite. That, maybe, even if this wasn’t something permanent, that the security of knowing what they were, even if it didn’t need a label like “boyfriend” and “girlfriend”, had meaning beyond the fucking. 

Felicia Hardy was scared. Scared to ruin what she’d found, scared to frighten herself off with commitment, scared to steal something that was being freely offered. 

“Cat, I’m…”

“Shh, Spidey, let it all out…" Black Cat moaned, wrapping her legs around his waist to hold him deep. "Give your kitty every drop of milk that she could ever want, and cream that pussy...You wanna give me kittens? I bet you do...” She didn’t know _why_ she was doing it, but as he began tensing, balls pulsing against her ass while the hot rush of his cumshot inside her confirmed that, yes, he wasn’t wearing a condom, Black Cat couldn’t help but feel fulfilled. This felt _right_ . Being creampied by Peter Parker was the most wonderful thing in the world. Not just for the numbing, quivering, firing orgasm that rolled through her—though that fucking _rocked_ her world too—but the knowledge that they’d crossed a new boundary together. 

Now, maybe it was time to breach another.

“Hey, Peter.” She mumbled as he kissed her neck and withdrew, cock still hard as he rested his shaft on her pussy lips. “Wanna fuck my ass?”

Peter blinked, startled but not uninterested. Felicia had teased him with the possibility of taking his dick in her butt before, but he’d never assumed that she’d actually seriously suggest it. And she looked serious. _Dead_ serious, even with the smile on her face.

“Of course, C…” He paused. No, he hadn’t misheard her. She’d called him by his name. His _real_ name, Peter. She’d made a point to never do that before and for him to do the same, especially once they started...whatever this was. This awkward enemies-with-benefits situation that didn’t resemble anything he had familiarity with. But she’d been deliberate.

As deliberate as she’d been when she’d asked him to cum inside her. _That_ was how he knew she was serious about using his name...as asking her to fuck her ass.

Not the most orthodox way of declaring love, but Felicia was an unusual woman, and a romantic, heart-baring confession from her was never in the cards. Peter could play her game, and let her know that he was in accord.

And, eventually, maybe they’d say what they both felt.

“You bet, Felicia.” He grinned and kissed her, feeling her hum into his mouth while he kept smiling. As she turned over onto her hands and knees, sticking her rear out with her back hole tensing invitingly, he couldn’t help but reflect on what this might mean.

Spider-Man pressed the thick head of his cock to Black Cat’s asshole, his balls readied for a future load while she tensed, mewled, and purred. Maybe, finally, they could start to be together as Peter Parker and Felicia Hardy.


End file.
